MUSHROOMHEAD

If living well is the best revenge, MUSHROOMHEAD must have achieved closure ten times over by now. For various reasons that definitely don't need repeating here, the masked Ohio weirdos were given a tremendous amount of undue criticism back in the enormo-trousered day, and they never quite broke through mainstream barriers as a result. In contrast with a great number of other (so-called) nu metal bands, there was never anything that objectionable about Steve "Skinny" Felton and his comrades, and their persistence over many years has a ruthless nobility to it. Plus, of course, their records are nearly always far more diverse, intricate and weird than cynics would give them credit for. Like many that emerged in the mid-'90s, MUSHROOMHEAD owe a great deal to the inspirational deviance of FAITH NO MORE and to the electronic perversions of industrial-tinged alt-rock, but always with a lingering sense that something even more horrifying lurks beneath those twisted masks. Given that there is some kind of half-hearted nu-metal renaissance going on right now, "Call The Devil" feels more timely and pertinent than anything its creators have done since 1999's "M3".

Despite one or two slightly generic moments, everything that unfolds here suggests that MUSHROOMHEAD have more ideas rattling around in their enigmatic skulls than at any point in their long history. As expected, "Call The Devil" dwells at the artfully dark end of the alternative spectrum, but there are numerous caveman riffs and bursts of untamed aggression to keep the mosh pits swirling too. "Eye To Eye" is exactly what sensible people want from non-traditional metal: simple, crushing and succinct, it sets the tone without giving away too many filthy secrets. "Emptiness" makes no bones about its pop sensibilities, nor indeed its self-evident debt to "Angel Dust" and "The Real Thing", but triumphs by virtue of being a really great song (with occasional sparks of insanity). In comparison, "We Don't Care" is a rather leaden post-grunge placeholder, but MUSHROOMHEAD are always smart enough to make a next move that will wrench the carpet from under our feet.

Emerging from a torrent of sludgy riffs, the haunted house theatrics of "UIOP (A Final Reprieve)" are beautifully executed and subsequently demolished by the brutish '90s nostalgia of "Prepackaged". Elsewhere, "Decomposition" is a boozy ballad with one raised eyebrow and a black and shriveled heart; "Hideous" lets robots loose in the madhouse, as riffs pile up like bodies at the morgue; and the eight-minute "Shame In A Basket" is a miniature, gothic masterpiece with a subtle but unmistakable edge of real nastiness.

Again, MUSHROOMHEAD are always much more interesting than their rather superficial association with nu-metal seems to suggest. "Call The Devil" is a little too long and could have done with some more ruthless pruning, but when it hits the mark, it does so with a uniquely ghoulish vigor and lots of imagination.